math class smells like rot
but i never gave it a second thought
for i live with dead bodies in my brain
and i will never be the same

Brown apple, bad smell
My long forgotten lunchbox
I was just a kid
It had dinosaurs on it
And a volcano – almost empty
Inside but so much going on
On the outside (it looked cool)
And I miss it
Even with this rot inside
Even the things I don’t know
Nor remember
For there’s a hole in the middle
I can’t see through.
- robert

after he was dead
his ghost came to visit her
impassive and emotionless
he sat in front of her
begging to be noticed
whispering apologies
it was futile and in vain
cause she buried him in her mind
and left him to rot there.

Not long after I laid myself upon the Earth,
I began to grow roots, suckling the green.

Before you knew it, they borrowed farther,
Far from me, crawling faster away.

To be so toxic, yet making myself at home.
I needed some good, to prune the bad.

As I gaze at the storm clouds rolling,
I wait for the rain, but not before the tears.

There is a bitterness, rotten deep within.
To be so disconnected, it is painful.

So I lay, disgusted with my own ruin,
Wishing the woods would cure me.

What a dumb little lie, who do I kid.
I will decompose with pestilence.

How dare I come here, how dare I weep.
But here I'll stay, a graveyard of grief.

Be the change you want to see
Try not to judge, let others be
The rain will stop, the storm shall pass
Pleasure is pleasing and love can last

Set up for sorrow, it's hard to see
Open your eyes, switch off your tv
Put down the remote and venture outside
Get out in to nature where healing resides

Turn off your phone, log off the net
You'll be surprised with the solace you get
Write a poem, cook a nice meal
Declare your love, see how it feels

Put away the plastic, stop doing your hair
Go back to basics, even though it's rare
Laugh at your troubles, hug it out
Why are you frowning, what's that all about
A sign of the times, the information age
Escape from the trap, break out of your cage

Tell me now, how do you feel
Please keep it up, do we have a deal
Memories last but gadgets do not
Live your life fully, run from the rot

I've caught the fever
Love is making me hopelessly sick
It degrades my body
It rots my souls
It distracts my mind
My cornea is misted over with a filter
Blinding me only to reality
A cancer of the heart
In need of fixing, I must return
To soft dark rooms with photographs
The echoing clicks of typists,
ticking away
Article after article about failed love
The anxious tapping of doctors,
scribbling away
Paper after paper about broken hearts
To sell to my waiting-room magazines
About all the treatments available:
Pseudoscientific daily medications
Holistic healing remedies
Statistically determined vaccinations
Nutrition centric routines

And not a cure in sight-

Not flowers but
All the
Cracks
At the very edge of petals
Where the watercolour bleeds away
And starts to rot
Sweetly
- That's what I am

I don't know how long I can pretend that I'm not rotting from the inside out.

I use a giant silver spoon to carve it out, pretend its ice cream, pretend its happiness, pretend its temporary. Every time I scoop, I'm closer to the bottom of the pint; but what's there at the bottom?

I look fine in your periphery, so what's there to worry?

I'm not bad at pretending, I'm just bad at being un-ugly.

let me place my finger on the dot
let me bring out the heart that you shot
let me visit the soul that does rot
let me remember the arguments we fought
let me let you remember the lessons i taught
let me remind you that you speak and feel like a robot